Piece of Cake
by LadyCordeliaStuart
Summary: Jordan Tate gets more than she signed on for when she jumps out of a fateful cake on the USS Missouri. An Under Siege fanfiction.
1. Chapter 1

_It'll be easy, they said,_Jordan thought as she crept down a claustrophobic hall carrying a gun she didn't even know the name of. _Just jump out of the cake, take some clothes off, and enjoy the adoration._

It seemed so simple. Just some harmless fun for the boys serving our country. She could use a little money and as far as jobs went, this one was pretty tolerable. Maybe she'd even hook up with a cute sailor.

Jordan peered forward at the man stalking ahead in front of her. No use talking to him, the big crab. He'd just say something about shooting people and stuff.

_Casey Rybeck,_she thought peevishly. _What kind of name is Casey for a boy? No wonder he's overcompensating._

It would be easy to assume that Casey was in fact compensating for something. His expression never shifted from a wooden, threating glower. He obviously worked out every day and he seemed to be an expert in anything that involved hurting people. And he walked like a bear that had been shot.

"In here," Casey said quietly, indicating a hatch door that looked like every other hatch door. For such a big fat musclehead, he had a surprisingly whispery voice.

Jordan sulkily followed him into the room. It was full of security cameras showing every part of the ship. That's not what Jordan noticed, though. She noticed the body on the floor. It looked like a sailor. He'd been shot in the back of the head.

"Oh my goodness, it's a dead guy! Gross!" Jordan squeaked.

"I told you you were better off in the locker," Casey said placidly. He bent over to check for a pulse, even though they both knew there wouldn't be any.

Jordan glared at him. He was no help.

"These are security cameras," Casey said. Jordan would have been offended, but the truth was she had no idea how they worked, so he was right to explain so simply. "I want you to stay here and watch them," he continued. "You'll be able to see me moving around. If anyone else shows up near me, I want you to press this button." He pointed to a round yellow button labeled "alarm."

"Wait, you want me to stay with a _dead guy?" _Jordan asked.

"You want to go back to the locker instead?" Casey replied.

"No," Jordan scowled.

"Just keep quiet and don't go anywhere," Casey said. He gathered his weapons and started to leave.

"Wait! What if I someone comes here and finds me?" Jordan asked.

"You'll see them coming on the camera. Just hide somewhere until they leave."

"What if they don't leave?"

"They don't know anyone is moving around. They have no reason to come here anyway," Casey said, and he left.

Jordan turned to look at the dazzling array of cameras and buttons. She had exactly no idea what anything did. She wanted to press a button to see what would happen, but she'd probably set the ship on fire or something.

She sat down in the chair in front of the cameras. Two of them were shattered, probably when the dead guy got shot.

_The dead guy._

Jordan swiveled in the chair to look at him. At least he was across the room and she didn't have to look at him. But she had her back to a dead guy. So gross.

"Well, I'll just ignore him," Jordan said resolutely. She wished she could cover him up, but there was nothing in the room but electronics. She'd drag him out of sight, but touching a dead guy was even grosser than being near him.

She turned back to the cameras.

_Just focus on the cameras. Focus on the cameras._

She scanned the screens until she found Casey walking down a hall. She felt better once she saw him. At least he made sense, even if he was a big mean grouch.

_Okay, just gotta watch these cameras and be ready to press the button._ She cupped her fingers around the yellow button.

_Piece of cake._


	2. Chapter 2

Jordan watched the cameras intently, but watching empty hallways was pretty dull. Even with all the adrenaline flooding through her system from the last hour's insanity, she had trouble focusing on the monitors. Her mind started wandering back to the start of this whole crazy day, before people started dying everywhere…

It had seemed like such a great break, especially her run of bad luck lately. She'd bounced between auditioning for TV parts every morning and waitressing at a greasy café every evening, and she was tired of it. Six months of looking had gotten her a few commercials and some low-end magazine ads. She was tired of scraping pennies to pay rent on her apartment in Bunker Hill, California—and it was hardly the Ritz. But she hated to admit defeat and slink back to Oklahoma, not when she'd promised her ex-boyfriend she'd make it big despite his lack of support. If he saw her back working at the bookstore, she'd never hear the end of it.

So she took the meager savings she had from her few successful gigs and hired an agent, figuring it'd be better than doing everything alone and clueless. And Brent Beauford _had _helped. He'd gotten her a minor part on a local soap, where she'd charmed producers enough that they were considering adding episodes for her witchy character instead of killing her in a car crash. He'd gotten her ads in real fashion magazines instead of Sears and JC Penny. She fed yogurt to John Stamos in a commercial and snuggled on a motorcycle with Emilio Esteves in another one. Things were starting to look up.

It was Brent's idea to book this gig, saying she needed to break through the ceiling and really get some face recognition. He said military approval was great for a starlet's popularity—either that or a porno. And while she was becoming a bit desperate, desperate enough to take a gig on a Navy vessel when she was scared of air travel, she wasn't desperate enough to do porn. She'd had plenty of those offers, but she'd never be desperate enough for that.

_What about that Wet n Wild video?_a snarky voice piped up in her mind. _And don't forget your latest title—Miss July, playmate of the month._

She shook her head, banishing her mental reproaches. The video was just a stupid sideline she'd done when she was two weeks behind on rent, just a wet T-shirt contest that required a quick flash. No big deal—and it was a year ago. How was she supposed to know it'd get so big? And Miss July, that was a huge stepping stone. So what if she'd been naked? Her hand had covered her crotch, so readers just got an eyeful of those lovely DD-breasts. While she'd been nervous at first, the photographer had been really sweet; he was used to nervous models. And that spread had gotten her a ton of positive attention—it was one of the reasons the soap had offered to extend her contract. But while Brent urged her to strike while the iron was hot and make a full-fledged porn flick, she stuck to her guns. Once was enough—it was only to get her famous enough to find real roles. She wasn't a porn star, she was an actress. Sure, this gig required her to take her shirt off, but it was for a room full of guys—no cameras. And the guys were serving their country—it was for a good cause.

So she'd let Brent drive her to the airport and load her into the helicopter that was waiting by itself on a special runway. She wasn't the only one; there were some caterers and musicians loading stuff into the copter too. She scanned their faces somewhat interestedly—she had always had a thing for musicians, especially bass players.

She noticed one of the guys handling a bright red bass and her interest piqued. He had shaggy black hair pulled out of his vivid blue eyes by a blue bandanna, and an oversized leather jacket hung on his lean frame. He was, she decided, not altogether bad looking, even if he was probably at least 15 years older than she was.

He caught her looking his way and grinned. "Morning, ma'am," he said with a slight Southern drawl, his voice as sweet as honey. "Name's William Strannix. I'm the band manager for this crazy fiesta."

Jordan smiled slightly, his infectious energy helping sooth her pre-flight jitters. "I'm Jordan," she said.

Strannix's smiled broaded. "I know. I've seen you in the magazines. And I've got to say, Ms. Tate, you're even prettier in person."

She blushed, feeling her own smile start to widen. "Thanks."

Strannix swung into the seat next to her right as the helicopter sputtered to life. Jordan instinctively clutched at her straps. Stranix saw her scared grimace and clucked his tongue sympathetically. "Scared of flying?"

"A little," Jordan admitted, staring at her shoes to ignore their ascent.

"Here, take some of these," he offered, digging into his pocket and coming up with some little white pills. When Jordan looked at them suspiciously, he added quickly, "Hey, no worries, they're legit—It's Prolefixant-just something to calm your nerves."

Jordan took the pills and swallowed them down. They did help—after about fifteen minutes, she felt a lot more relaxed, and she was able to talk to Stranix and the rest of the guys. His band seemed pretty cool, even if they were chiller than their intense manager.

When the helicopter touched down on the battleship, Jordan was eager to jump off onto dry land—even if it wasn't real land. She could already hear the excited hollers of the sailors lined up to get a glimpse of her. She was used to that—she couldn't walk through the grocery store without being cat-called. But as soon as she stepped onboard, her legs felt like they were going to melt as she tried to cope with the bobbing of the sea. She grabbed onto the nearest thing—Strannix. He didn't mind.

"Hey now," he said with a chuckle, taking her elbow, "I'm not used to women falling for me so quickly."

"Sorry," she said with a nervous laugh.

"Let's get you inside," he offered. "You'll get used to the rhythm pretty quick."

Just then some of their hosts showed up. A big broad-shouldered blond in a white officer's uniform was leading the way. Jordan instantly didn't care for him—he looked like he'd had his face kicked in by a horse.

"Well, hello, Ms. Tate!" he called out before reaching the group. "I'm Commander Krill, sort of the ringleader for this little jubilee." He offered his hand, which she took out of politeness, but the way he looked her over made her skin crawl. She was used to dealing with horny guys, and she knew she could handle a shipload who hadn't seen a woman in months, but for some reason, this guy creeped her out.

But she really was a good actress, and charming to boot, and she smiled a melting smile and fluttered her eyelashes, cooing, "It's so exciting to be here, Commander—I've never been on a boat this big before!"

The commander laughed, taking her other arm so that she was between the two men. "Actually, it's called a ship," he explained, like he was talking to a pretty child. Jordan was used to that, too, and she figured it wouldn't hurt if they all thought she was a bubble-headed blonde—it was easier to get her way then. "It's one of the best ships in the Navy. Let me show you around."

The ship rocked again, and Jordan stumbled, trying hard to keep her balance. She let herself lean into Krill, since she knew he wouldn't mind. "Oh, I'm sorry, Commander," she said with a self-conscious giggle. "I'm afraid I haven't gotten my legs yet—and I feel a bit sea sick."

"No worries, ma'am," the commander replied gaily. "I've got some pills that will help settle that stomach. Lots of our boys have to take them for the first few weeks."

When they finally deposited her to her room, it took quite a while to get them to leave—they were so eager to make her feel comfortable.

"Don't worry, darlin'," Stannix reassured her with a wink, "you could do this gig with your eyes closed."

She was relieved to be alone, though. Her stomach really did feel queasy—so queasy, she was afraid she'd throw up. Now that wouldn't be sexy at all—popping out of a cake half-naked only to hurl on the birthday boy. She grabbed a handful of the seasickness pills the commander had given her and popped them into her mouth, washing them down with water from the sink.

Then it was time to get ready. It didn't take long. She had a Navy-themed costume, but there wasn't much to it: a white jacket and a dark blue thong, and a Navy cap to go on top. She put everything on, glancing over herself in the mirror: it would do.

_Hey, girl, give yourself some credit_, she told herself. _You look _hot.

The cake was already in her room. It wasn't the first cake she'd popped out of—she had quite a great reputation with the boys of Cal Tech and Berkley. So she didn't have any pre-party jitters. She knew the gig: Burst out, show off the goods, wiggle around a little and make the captain feel special. Maybe after the party, she'd find one of those musicians. Heck, Strannix seemed like a fun-loving guy, and she could use some fun after this thing was done.

She climbed into the cake, curling up inside. It was actually pretty cozy. In fact, it was so cozy, and the waves were so soothing, she didn't realize when she started to drift off…

The next thing she knew, music was blaring all around her. She snapped awake in panic. _Shoot, what were you thinking? _she berated herself. _You're going to miss the show—and you're the star!_

She leapt up, bursting out of the cake and going into her routine: hips swinging sexily as she slowly and purposefully slipped off her jacket. But something was off—there were no excited cheers, no whistles or cat calls, no applause. Besides the music, it was deathly quiet. And suddenly, the music snapped off, too.

"What's going on here?" a soft yet grim voice demanded. "Who are you?"

Jordan whirled around, getting her first glance of Casey Ryback: dressed all in black, covered head-to-toe in weapons and ammunition, blood coating his gloves. He looked like a pissed-off bear. It was enough to make any girl skittish.

Turns out the reason no one was cheering for her was because everyone was dead, locked up or mutinying. Commander Krill had killed the captain, and Strannix had helped him take over the ship. Jordan struggled to understand that one—Strannix had seemed the epitome of a jived-up hippy-rock star mash-up. But apparently, he had a bone to pick with Uncle Sam.

Suddenly, Jordan's seasickness was the least of her worries. Suddenly, she was hearing about plans to blow up a chunk of the East Coast—and maybe the very ship they were standing on. Suddenly, Casey Ryback was her only hope out of this mess.


	3. Chapter 3

Strannix sat lazily in the Captain's chair in the command room, one leg draped over the desk in front of it. As far as he was concerned, everything was right in the world. The ship was his, the high-ranking officers were dead, and some generals back in America were about to get very concerned.

There was one thing. He'd sent two men to check the ship for any stragglers, and they hadn't checked in yet. They were three minutes overdue.

He picked up his radio.

"Yosemite, this is Roadrunner," Strannix said. "You and Foghorn are overdue. Report on personnel status?"

There was no response.

"Yosemite, this is Roadrunner," Strannix repeated. "You better be dead down there. Roadrunner out. Meep meep."

Strannix slammed the radio down and hauled himself to his feet. Commander Krill, who had been lurking in the corner of the room, looked up at the noise. He was still wearing a polka dotted woman's blouse. Strannix figured if that's how he rolled, that was fine with him.

"Hold down the fort, would ya?" Strannix called to him. "Something around here smells worse than my dear old auntie's pecan pie."

Strannix stomped out of the room, pausing to savagely kick some electronic gizmo on the way out.

_You gotta do everything yourself,_he thought sourly. All these military stuffed shirts. They couldn't even contain a few straggling ensigns. They didn't have _style._

_Maybe I should have thought about where I was going before I left,_Strannix thought idly. _Naaah, who needs that? Just a nice leisurely stroll through my ship._

Strannix began humming an improvised rock song to himself, accompanying himself on an air guitar when the moment was right and pausing now and then to break out a few choice moves.

He descended a flight of stairs and moved closer to the unsecured part of the ship. Ending his phantasmical performance by energetically smashing his air guitar (for which he provided sound effects), he moved on quietly.

As he started down another monochrome corridor, he noticed that the door on the end of the hall was labeled "Camera Room."

"Well, that might come in handy," he muttered to himself. He decided to go check it out and send some men to man it.

He crept up silently, just in case some wetback soldier was in there waiting to be a hero. The door was ajar, and when he peered in, it wasn't a soldier he found.

"Well, well, well, how could I have forgotten about you?"


	4. Chapter 4

Jordan whipped her gaze away from the row of monitors and whirled around. Strannix was leaning against the open doorframe. How hadn't she heard him come in? How hadn't she seen him on the monitors?

She leaned against the control panel nervously as Strannix scanned her body with obvious relish.

"You surely are a sight for sore eyes, darlin'," he purred, sauntering over to her. "After the mess I've been through, I could really use a little release."

_What do I do what do I do what do I do? _she thought in panic, before she remembered the yellow alarm button Ryback had told her to push. She made a lunge for it but Strannix was quicker, snatching her by the wrist and pushing her back up against the control panel.

"Now why would you want to break up our little party before the fun starts?" he teased, leaning towards her with an arm on either side and effectively trapping her with his body.

"You should leave," Jordan said, trying to sound firm but just sounding scared. "When Ryback comes back, he'll—"

"Ah, so you've paired up with Mr. Ryback," Strannix said with an amused smile. "Lucky bastard. He must have been the one to give you the outfit change," he added, eyes trailing down her front again. "No offense to Mr. Ryback, sweetheart, but I liked your first outfit better. But maybe we can fix this one, hmm?"

He reached down and unbuttoned her top button, then the second one. His expression was like that of a kid opening a birthday present. The more Jordan's luscious cleavage flashed, the more excited he became. She was afraid he was going to undo all her buttons and let her spill out, and finally she pushed his hand away angrily.

"Stop it," she snapped, using her free hand to clutch her front. "Leave me alone!"

"Hey, now, why so shy suddenly?" Strannix asked innocently, catching her hand and wrenching it behind her. In doing so, he leaned in even closer, until their bodies were pressed against each other.

Jordan grimaced as pain shot up to her shoulder and remembered just how dangerous Strannix was, even if he seemed like a crazy.

"You were outgoing enough to give the captain a little glimpse," he continued, his free hand reaching up to pull on her shirt again, widening the gap to better see her chest. "Nothing wrong with showin' off what your mama gave you, honey." His fingers slipped under her shirt fabric, playing along her collarbone. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear, "Isn't that what you were made for?"

Jordan bit her lip, trying to block out his groping fingers. She knew she could never overpower him and escape. But suddenly she realized something very important: Strannix wasn't holding down her right arm anymore. He'd let it go to explore her front. And the yellow alarm button was in reach if she just… stretched… a little…

She slapped it down hard and immediately sirens began wailing through the room. The noise was almost deafening. Strannix leapt back like a shot, and Jordan took advantage of his surprise to push past him and make a dash for the door. He recovered quickly though, reaching out and grabbing her by her belt, yanking her back into him.

"Now that was tricky," he told her as his arm wrapped around her front, breath hot on her neck. He sounded more amused than angry, though. "I bet you know lots of good tricks, huh?"

"Ryback will be here any minute, and then you'll be in trouble," Jordan snapped at him, struggling to pull away from his grip, but he was too strong.

He just laughed at her threats. "I'm not scared of a chef," he replied. But then he went quiet for a second, obviously thinking, as the sirens screeched in the background. "Dadgummit, a man can't hear himself think in here," he finally hollered, yanking her over to the button so he could smash it and stop the alarms. Then he dragged her along with him out of the room and down the hall. She tried to struggle, but he pressed his hand gun into her ribs. "Play nice, now," he told her. "There's plenty of time to get rough later on."

She stopped fighting, but her mind still clicked away at possibilities. Hopefully, Ryback would head them off in the hallway. She didn't like the big bear, but she liked him a heck of a lot more than this looney tune. She never knew what to expect from Strannix, and his waving a gun around didn't reassure her at all.

He pushed her down the hallway and into another room full of computer screens and giant maps. She didn't know much about ships, but she guessed it was the main control room. A handful of soldiers and a computer geek were scattered throughout the room. Her heart sank when she saw Commander Krill lounging in the corner—and was he wearing a dress?

When Krill saw her, he instantly perked up. "Well, what do we have here?"

"Found us a little bonus, boys," Strannix called over her shoulder, steering her towards a chair. Draping an arm around her shoulders, he said, "This is Miss Jordan Tate. I'm sure most of you recognize her from her recent magazine spread."

Krill was on his feet and hurrying over before Strannix stopped talking. Jordan recoiled as far as she could into the chair, heart hammering in her chest as she remembered the way he'd looked at her when she'd first stepped off the helicopter. _Great, now I have to fend off two psychos_, she grumbled inwardly.

"Where'd you find her?" Krill asked, reaching for her shirt eagerly.

"Hey now, finder's keeper's," Strannix answered, slapping his hands away. Krill looked almost hurt, and Strannix laughed. "Hey, buddy, I'm just kidding ya," he said. "You can have her when I'm done. Rank has its privileges, you know?"

Krill's pride was still hurt, but he was too focused on Jordan and the promise of future opportunities to stay hurt for long, and he laughed too.

"Find something to tie her up with," Strannix ordered no one in particular, and before long one of the soldiers passed him some rope. Strannix tied Jordan's wrists together tight enough to hurt and pushed her into the chair. "Now, darlin', I need you to tell us everything you know about this Mr. Casey Ryback," he said, looming over her.

Jordan knew she was in a bad spot, but she was even more certain that Casey Ryback was her best bet out of it. And telling these creeps about him could make it harder for him to come save her. So she mustered her courage and spat out, "Go to hell!"

But far from convincing Strannix of her resolve, her response just made him laugh. "Spirited little lady, ain't she?" he asked Krill, voice dripping mockery. He leaned in closer, hands on her knees so they were face to face, and she forced herself not to squirm away. "Now, darlin', don't make this harder for yourself," he told her, using that same voice Krill had used earlier, like he was talking to a silly child. "There are lots of ways I can make this experience unpleasant for you, and some of them—" he suddenly shoved her legs apart—"are quite pleasurable for me."

Jordan couldn't help but gasp, and this time she did try to squirm away, but Krill was suddenly behind her, holding her shoulders down against her chair. He took the opportunity to slide his hands over her shoulders, and her stomach twisted. But her real concern was Strannix.

Strannix dropped to his knees between her thighs, sliding his hands up her legs. He grabbed the front of her pants and started to unbutton the top button.

"S-stop it!" Jordan cried, her voice high with panic. "I don't know anything about Ryback!"

"I think she wants it," Krill said over her shoulder, and Strannix grinned wider, tugging at her pants with both hands. She was afraid he was going to pull them down right then.

"No!" Jordan shrieked, trying to jerk away from his grip. Her lacy black thong was already starting to peek out as the pants dropped lower, and Strannix whistled. Suddenly, all her resolutions went out the window. "He's going to the cargo hold!" she yelled out. "He said he's going to the cargo hold to get the other sailors!"

Strannix looked almost disappointed, but he stopped yanking on her pants. "There, now, was that so hard?" he asked her, leaning his elbow on her leg. His other hand stayed on her waist, thumb making little circles on her skin. "What else? How'd you meet up with him?"

Jordan gulped, her throat still dry with fear. "I-I fell asleep in the cake because of all the pills I'd taken, and when I jumped out, he was the only one in the room."

"Lucky son of a gun got his own private strip show," Krill muttered incredulously.

"We'll get plenty more later on," Strannix consoled him brusquely. "Then what? What weapons did he have?"

"He gave me a uniform to wear and took me with him to the camera room," Jordan said in a rush. "He had a bunch of guns slung over his back and a big knife. He didn't tell me anything else, I swear!"

Strannix considered what she'd said, his fingers continuing their route along her hip bone and sliding underneath the strap of her thong. He snapped it back in place and stood up. He looked pensive.

"We know where he's going and why," he said. "Let's head him off and take care of him before he causes any more trouble." He turned and started barking orders at his men, who scrambled to obey. "You stay here with her," he ordered Krill, who was quite happy to oblige. "But remember, no touching 'til I'm done—and that's an order."

He giggled at his cleverness and turned smartly on his heel, leading his men out. "Don't worry, honeycakes," he assured her at the door. "I'll be back in a jiff and we can finish what we started."


	5. Chapter 5

_What am I going to do what am I going to do? _Jordan thought. _At least Strannix is gone Krill's here now how can he be even ickier than Strannix?_

Krill was much less indecisive. He waited like an angel precisely until Strannix was clearly out of earshot. He turned to the scientist, who was hovering uncertainly by the door.

"Son, you're too young for this kind of action. Why don't you go fix a computer?" He said.

The scientist blushed and scurried out the door.

Krill turned back to Jordan. His hand strayed near her slightly exposed thong.

Jordan's hand sailed out and smacked it away.

"Hey, you heard what Strannix said," she said firmly.

Krill didn't have a witty retort. He just nudged her hand aside and resumed his course.

_Ohno what am I gonna do I can't get him away what am I gonna do what would Casey do well he's not here where is he when you need him GOT IT_

"I guess one sailor's as good as another," Jordan said. "But let's do things right. Have a little patience."

Jordan stood up and wrapped her arms around Krill's neck.

"Sit down like a good boy," She said, and shoved him into the chair. "Enjoy the show."

Only one thought went through Krill's head. He sank into the chair like a felled tree.

Jordan stood in front of him, fiddling with the buttons on her shirt. She pulled away at the last moment and tugged downwards at her pants with one hand, running the other down Krill's chest. She undid the zipper and stroked one hand down her leg as she let her pants slide to the floor. She kicked them aside and stepped forward to straddle Krill's legs.

"Show me a good time, sailor?" She whispered and she bent at the waist, leaning into Krill's shoulders until her face was level with his. She sank forward at the knees until she was resting on his lap. She tensed her legs, wrapping them around his waist.

Krill reached toward her blouse. She grabbed his hand.

"I can do it myself," She said wickedly. She slowly freed the top button. She toyed with the second, then brought her hand down to stroke Krill's thigh. She pressed her chest against Krill's and arched her back, sliding her chest up his body. She twined both hands in his hair and leaned back like she wanted him to have a better view of her bosom…

CRACK!

She twisted to one side, throwing her entire weight behind Krill's head and slamming it with all her strength down on the desk they were sitting beside. He sagged against her and when she untangled herself and jumped up, he slumped to the floor.

Jordan stepped over him with a sashay and started down the hall. No use sticking around here until Strannix came back. She may not know where she was going but it couldn't be worse than that.

_Okay, maybe that's not what Casey would do._


	6. Chapter 6

Jordan quickly shoved her pants back on, sticking Krill's handgun into her pocket. _I should really tie him up or something_, she thought to herself, scanning the room for a good restraint. The best thing she could come up with was his belt. She dragged him to one of the pipes running along the floor—_shoot, this guy's like a rock, _she grumbled to herself—and tied his wrists as securely as she could. It'd be no good if he woke up and came after her.

She poked her head out the door cautiously, paranoid about running into more of Strannix's men—or, heaven forbid, Strannix himself. The hallways were empty. Even the computer geek was nowhere to be seen.

_Which way's the cargo hold? _she wondered anxiously, trying to remember where she'd met Ryback and which direction he'd taken off towards. _I think it was to the left…_

It was as good a guess as any, so she started creeping down the hall as quietly but quickly as possible. There was no way she wanted to be caught in the open by Strannix or his goons—they couldn't all be as gullible as Krill.

She walked past the camera room where Strannix had found her and kept going in the direction she'd seen Ryback leave. She passed several rooms without hearing anything and even made it down a flight of steps, but finally she saw CARGO HOLD written in big letters over an open doorway. Voices drifted through the door.

_That's got to be them, _she thought excitedly, quickly ducking into the hold. _Ryback will be here somewhere, and he'll know what to do!_

Even though he was gruff and reserved, she found herself looking forward to seeing his ugly mug again. Near him was the only safe place to be.

"Hello?" she called out.

She wound her way around the pipes and all the crates piled on the floor and against the walls. There was a ton of stuff packed into the giant room. Finally she found a group of guys, huddled around equipment in the back of the cargo room. They were all dressed in black, which instantly caught her attention. She didn't know much about the Armed Forces, but she knew what sailors' uniforms looked like, and these weren't them.

_So they're not wearing dress blues_, she told herself. _Who cares as long as Casey's here?_

"Ryback?" she called again, but less certainly this time. Something didn't feel right…

The men whipped around to look at her, and their looks weren't very friendly. Some looked downright hostile, while others just leered. They were all holding weapons, and some of them were splattered with blood.

"What do we have here?" the tallest one asked with a nasty grin, looking Jordan over with obvious want. "Strannix didn't say he was sending down treats. You boys don't mind sharing, right?"

Jordan backed up worriedly, suddenly feeling very small and very alone. "Um, I think I have the wrong room," she stammered, glancing around at all the very excited mercenaries advancing on her. She knew she had no chance if she stayed in the cramped cargo hold, but if she could make it to the stairs, she might be able to outrun them. They were trained killers, but they were weighed down with weapons and equipment. She'd run track for years and she was pretty darn fast.

"Oh, I don't think so, babe," the leader replied, and he lunged for her.

But she was quicker, jerking out of his grasp and twisting around to run for the entrance. She was lighter on her feet than the men and was able to wind around the crates and barrels faster than they were. She almost made it to the entrance, closing in fast on the last three feet separating her from the open hallway, when Strannix ducked inside.

Jordan saw him and he saw her at the same time, and he opened his mouth for some clever remark, but he didn't have the chance. At this point there was nothing Jordan could do but continue forward, smashing into him and knocking him backwards out of the doorway. They landed in a heap outside, legs tangled and arms flailing. For once, Jordan had the advantage as Strannix dealt with his surprise, and she tried to jump up and keep going, but Strannix recovered quickly and grabbed her by the ankle, knocking her to her knees. He started to drag her closer to him, but at that moment she remembered the gun stuck in her pocket and whipped it out.

"Let go," she ordered through grit teeth, hands shaking.

Strannix let go instantly, raising his hands above his head. "Hey, now, darlin', don't get excited," he said soothingly. "That's a lot of weapon for such a little lady."

"Shut up," Jordan snapped, carefully getting to her feet. Strannix stood too, taking care to keep his distance.

By now, the others had thudded through the cargo hold and barreled into the opening. When they saw the stand-off, they stopped short.

"Boys, get back to work and give the lady and me some space," Strannix told them casually, but his eyes never left Jordan. He didn't even glance at his men as they shuffled back into the cargo hold.

Jordan started backing up, mind whirring as she tried to form a new plan. She couldn't keep Strannix pinned in the hallway forever; if his men decided to take her, she couldn't mow them all down. She knew he was just his pride keeping them at bay—he wanted to be the one to subdue her, and he didn't like being shown up in front of his men. But he was a soldier first, and eventually he'd swallow his pride to take her out. She had to figure out a way to keep him there while she turned her back and continued down the hallway. Ryback couldn't be too far… could he?

"Now, sugar," Strannix cut into her thoughts, "I see how hard you're thinking. And you've probably figured out this isn't going to end well. Why don't you just settle down and give me the gun?"

"Don't tell me what to do!" Jordan replied, struggling to keep her panic at bay. "I have the gun, not you."

"Well, that's true," Strannix conceded, but he didn't seem intimidated. In fact, he seemed downright amused. "But the thing is, I don't think you'll use it."

"Hey, hey, stay back!" Jordan cried, seeing him start to inch closer towards her. She stepped backwards herself, backing up until her back hit something cold and solid. Her heart plummeted into her stomach as she realized she'd hit one of the ship's safe walls, thick doors that divided hallways in case of water breaches. There was a door in the wall somewhere, but she couldn't take her eyes off Strannix long enough to figure out how to open it. She was pinned.

"See, there's nowhere to go," Strannix told her, relishing her anxiety. "And since we both know you won't pull the trigger, let's stop playing around and just give me the gun."

_Don't let him get in your head_, Jordan ordered herself, ignoring how badly the gun shook in her hands. _It's you or him. You've got to do it._

Without saying anything, she lowered the gun to his chest and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Jordan squeezed again, more frantically this time, but there was no gunshot. She took her eyes off Strannix to look down at the gun in her hands in confusion, and that's when he lunged, grabbing her by the wrist and slamming her into the wall. She didn't have time to process what had happened before his arm was against her throat.

"I'm truly impressed," he said, yanking the gun out of her hands. "I didn't think you'd actually try it. But, honey," he added with a condescending smile, "you have to take the safety off."

He did so, firing a round down the hallway that was so loud Jordan jumped. When he turned back to her, her stomach twisted in fear.

"You're just full of fun surprises," Strannix said with a dark chuckle, holding her shoulder against the wall with one hand and casually motioning with the gun with his other. "I bet Krill learned that the hard way."

Jordan tried not to shy away from the gun, but she couldn't help herself from flinching when Strannix waved it too close to her.

He noticed her unease with obvious delight. "I bet you love all this excitement," he continued, tracing her jawline with the gun. "I bet it really turns you on."

Jordan forced herself not to shudder as he ran the muzzle over her lips and down her neck. He continued downward, over her chest and along her stomach. She bit her lip to keep quiet, knowing he'd only do more if she protested. He thrived on others' fear.

She couldn't help but gasp when he pushed the gun between her legs.

"I can give you a whole lot more to wrap those pretty legs around," he whispered in her ear, resting the gun against the wall next to her head and effectively trapping her between his arms.

_If you just let him do what he wants, maybe he'll let you go_, Jordan told herself. _It's not like you've never done this before. Just imagine it's Tom Cruise or something…_

But even as she told herself that, her mind rebelled. It was one thing to flash her breasts for a cameraman when she was making good money and good publicity. She was in charge then, deciding whether it was worth it. But this was totally different—this was being controlled by Strannix and what he wanted. And she wasn't going to just spread her legs and do whatever he wanted.

She wasn't in a very good position to fend him off, but she had one last trick up her sleeve that _always _worked with over-eager guys. So she let him nip at her ear without protesting, instead running her leg alongside the inside of his for a better position. Strannix growled appreciatively, leaning in even closer so that their bodies were pressed against each other.

That's when Jordan slammed her knee into his groin.

Strannix instantly crumbled to his knees, the gun falling from his hand and bouncing underneath him. Jordan wasted no time leaping over his curled up form and sprinting down the hall in the other direction. She didn't take the time trying to snatch the gun; she knew she'd only have seconds before he recovered and was chasing after her.

And she knew he was going to be pissed.


	7. Chapter 7

Strannix staggered to his feet, muttering unrepeatable words.

_You little minx. You want to play rough, do you? _He left his gun on the floor. He didn't need it. It would be more fun to do this with his hands anyway.

"You want a hunt, you little fox? You got one!" he bellowed after Jordan as she rounded a corner and slipped out of sight. He threw back his head and howled like a hound dog, then sprinted after her. His men stayed behind uncertainly.

The corridors in the battleship were short and compact. He shot around the corner after Jordan and saw her pulling at a hatch. She saw him coming and ran on.

_You don't even know how to open a door. I got you now, _he thought. He saw no reason to rush. Where could she go? They were in the middle of an ocean.

Jordan POV:

_Why does every door in this stupid ship have to be locked? What's the point of a door that doesn't open?_

Jordan sprinted down the corridor, praying it wouldn't be a dead end and knowing one would come eventually. She tugged at some hatches as she passed, but none of them budged.

_What would Casey do? Shoot, Casey could rip this guy apart. Guess that won't help. Just keep running. He can't kill you until he catches you._

Jordan's heart skipped when she turned another corner and saw a wall. Then she saw a ladder tucked in one corner. She leapt up and started hauling herself up two rungs at a time. Just as she neared the top, she saw Strannix loping easily after her. She shrieked like a spider had jumped on her.

Strannix looked a lot less angry that one would expect for a guy who just got kicked in the nuts. He leaned against the bulkhead and smiled up at her.

"Looks like you're treed, fox," he said. "Why don't you come down and I'll show you what happens next?"

Jordan didn't come down. She pulled herself up the last few rungs of the ladder. Then she heard Strannix climbing after her and she climbed even faster. She clawed her way onto the next floor of the ship and resumed sprinting, breathing heavily.

She stopped for an instant to look around. The corridor branched off into two hallways leading from the ladder. She had no idea where either of them went, so she ran left. She peeked back over her shoulder as she went.

_OH SHOOT HE'S ALREADY HALFWAY UP._

This was no time for planning, not that she could think of one. She looked around for something to throw, but this was a boat. Everything was fixed in place.

She heard footsteps behind her. _Ohno he's getting closer where can I go? _They were growing louder. _I should have stayed in the stupid locker. _She could hear Strannix breathing. _Ohno ohno CASEY!_

Strannix POV

Strannix neared Jordan. She was surprisingly fast for such a slip of a girl. But he had longer legs and he had years of training.

He pounced the last step and crashed into Jordan like a linebacker, slamming her to the ground. She started to scream something- it sounded like "Casey"- but then she hit the ground and it turned into a squawk of pain. He flipped her onto her back, pulled her up by her collar, and slammed her into the bulkhead.

"I caught you fair and square," he said to her. "Now it's time to play." He stepped back and waited.

Jordan looked at him perplexedly for a moment. Then she bolted down the corridor. He caught her by her shirt and slammed her back into the bulkhead, twisting one arm behind her back. She gasped and stood on her toes to alleviate the pressure. As soon as she did he leaned down and kissed her roughly, smacking her head back against the wall in the process.

"Now try again," he said eagerly, and stepped back. This time she didn't move. She just shrank against the wall.

"You're not going to have any fun if you don't play," Strannix said. "Here, I'll get you started." He grabbed her collar and threw her down the hall. She shot to her feet and tried to run. She had taken two steps when he tackled her again. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and hauled her to her feet. This time he backed her into the wall gently. He pulled down on her hair, forcing her head up until her neck strained.

Something was wrong. She looked terrified, like she was about to cry.

"What's wrong, Darlin'? Aren't you having fun?" he asked. "Am I moving too fast? Oh, you probably want some of that romantic garbage." He bent down and kissed her where her neck met her shoulder. His free hand moved to her shirt and he began fiddling with the buttons. He was just about to add a few love bites when-

"GET AWAY!"

Jordan shoved him away with all her strength. Which was enough to knock him back a single step. He looked at her in surprise. She screwed up her face into something adorably close to a sneer and slapped him right across the face.

_Finally she's playing! NOW we can have some fun!_

"Well, it's about time! I was starting to think you didn't like me!" Strannix said. He savored the pain as it rushed across him. No fair keeping it to himself, though. He drew back an arm and slapped her back. She was knocked sideways a few steps and stumbled a few more to catch her balance.

Strannix thought about all the fun things they were about to do. Where to start?


	8. Chapter 8

Jordan struggled to stay upright as pain exploded across her jaw. She grabbed the wall for support, mind reeling. What was _with _this guy? It almost seemed like he thought it was a game, that she was having just as much fun as he was. She didn't think she could get through to him with reality, and she doubted anything would change even if she could. He was severely unhinged, and she was seriously scared of him. But what could she do?

Her mind flashed back to her freshmen self-defense class at California State University: _Weak spots, what were those weak spots? _Suddenly she remembered: joints, fingers, neck… She couldn't believe she'd actually try to go toe-to-toe with Strannix, but she really didn't have another choice at this point. If she could miraculously knock him down, maybe she could make it around him to the control room. She could see the doorway now, and she knew there were at least obstacles and things she could throw.

So she threw herself up proudly and said contemptuously, "Is that the best you can do?"

Strannix grinned. "Honey, I'm just getting started."

He jumped at her, but she dodged to the side and caught his arm, using his momentum to slam him into the wall for once. He certainly wasn't expecting that, and it gave her the opportunity to slam her leg into knee. He grunted in pain, but he didn't crumble to the floor with a shattered knee cap as she'd hoped—she must not have done it right. She tried again, this time trying to punch his throat, but this time he was ready and caught her wrist.

"Not bad," he said. "My turn now."

He swung her by wrist and slammed her into the bulwark, so hard her breath was knocked out of her. Catching her free hand with his, he wrenched her arm so savagely she feared it would pop out of her socket. The pain was so great, she tried to scream, but he kissed her before she could. His kiss was just as savage, and he pressed so hard against her she wouldn't suck in a breath. Finally, he stopped twisting her arm, and she moaned with relief. He thought the moan meant something far different, though, and he grabbed her legs roughly and lifted her up so that she was straddling him against the wall. To keep her up, he braced against her with his body, and she felt every hot part of him against her.

She tried to bite his lip, but he only chuckled and bit hers back, hard enough that she tasty salty blood in her mouth.

One of his hands left her leg to cup her chin and yank her head to one side so he could kiss her throat. Jordan felt his tongue exploring her neck and working its way towards her collarbone. She tried to jerk her head away but Strannix just shoved his finger deep into her mouth. But that really wasn't a bright idea, and she chomped down with all the force she could muster.

Strannix shrieked, trying to yank his hand away. He took several quick steps backwards to get more space and flung her away from him. She willingly let go, letting herself sail down the hallway, and when she smashed to her knees she was up again in a second, sprinting for the control room.

She tried to slam the door closed behind her, but Strannix smashed through easily, knocking her across the cramped room and onto her back.

"Damn, girl, you know how to keep things fun," Strannix said with a manic grin, looking down at her and breathing hard.

"Stay away from me," Jordan ordered, but it sounded more like a whimper, as she crawled backwards to put more space between them. Strannix sauntered after her casually. She felt a desk behind her and used it to pull herself up, looking around for something to use as a weapon. She felt some electrical gadget on the desk behind her and hurled it at him without thinking. He dodged it easily, chuckling.

"Aw, don't get mad," he drawled, advancing closer. "We've been having such a good time."

That's when she noticed the gun laying on the desk next to hers. Desperately, she lunged for it, but Strannix was too quick, grabbing her arm and wrenching it behind her so brutally she gasped. He slammed her into the desk, pressing against her so tightly the desk cut into her abdomen and she had trouble breathing. The pain along her arm was excruciating, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming. He kicked her legs apart, his free hand sliding over her backside.

"Hope you like it from behind, darlin'," he said, shoving her hard into the desk so that she was bent over at an almost 90-degree angle, the desk cold against her cheek. He put even more weight on her arm, twisting it so savagely she couldn't keep from screaming any more. She screamed and screamed, and Strannix laughed. "You'll be screaming a lot more before we're through," he told her confidently.

His free hand gave her backside a final squeeze before pushing forward to her front, groping for her pants buttons. His hand was hot against her front, and his breath was hot against her throat. Jordan squeezed her eyes shut, willing her mind to anywhere but reality. If only she'd stayed in the locker… She desperately wished Casey Ryback was here to save her. Where was he?


	9. Chapter 9

Casey stalked toward the control room. The cargo hold was secure, his men were infiltrating the rest of the ship, and now his objective was disarming the missiles.

He heard scuffling noises coming from the control room and stopped. It was occupied. From the sound of it, it was probably two arguing mercenaries. Casey shouldered his weapon, crouched into a warrior stance, and stepped into the room, sweeping around with his rifle to locate any targets.

It wasn't two mercenaries at all. It was Strannix. He was leaning over a very battered Jordan.

That did it.

Casey tossed down his weapon (after checking to ensure that Strannix was unarmed) and started in Strannix's direction.

"Hey Roadrunner, you feel like a big man beating up women?" he said softly.

Strannix looked up. "Well, lookee here," he drawled, "the chef finally decided to join the fun. I guess we'll have to wait just a bit longer, darlin'," he told Jordan, shoving her away and standing up. "Think of it as a bit more foreplay."

Jordan crawled away into a corner and stared at Casey, crying.

Strannix charged at Casey, punching him square across the face. Casey took it without flinching and pivoted, thrusting the flat of his hand into Strannix's throat. His momentum flipped him up into the air and he crashed to the ground. Casey hauled him up by the back of his shirt and threw him across the room.

Strannix flew back to his feet and staggered sideways. Casey followed after him, but when he got close, Strannix grabbed at his belt and lashed out with a survival knife, slashing Casey's arm.

Casey drew back and evaded and Strannix charged and slashed wildly with his knife. Then Casey grabbed Strannix's knife arm and brutally snapped it back. There was a hideous crack, and Strannix screamed and dropped the knife.

Jordan POV

_CASEYCASEYCASEY! _Jordan thought over and over. _You're here you're really here DO SOMETHING!_

Jordan thought she was shouting, but really she was just staring stupidly as Casey charged in. Strannix stood up and shoved her to the ground. She frantically crawled into a corner, sobbing with terror and relief.

_I think I'd better just stay here, _she thought when the worst of the fear had passed. _You know what they say about not interrupting two fighting dogs. Casey's got this, and if he doesn't, I don't think there's much I can do._

Jordan watched as Casey tore into Strannix. It was like watching a wild dog savage a chicken. Strannix flew around the room and even when he had a knife there was nothing he could do. Then Casey just grabbed his arm and snapped it like a twig.

_Eeew, that's nasty, _Jordan thought. All the same, it was very reassuring. _Give him hell, Casey!_

Casey POV

Strannix crumpled to the ground and held his dangling arm. Casey took the opportunity to grab him by the hair and slam his head against his raised knee. Strannix sort of flopped over for a minute, but then he was up and ready for more. He surprised Casey by running straight at him. At that distance it was hard to get leverage for a punch, so he grabbed Strannix by the throat and started throttling him. Strannix started batting at his arm, but Casey just extended it effortlessly. He slapped Strannix with his free hand.

"You think you can just come onto my ship and take over? Keep the faith, Strannix."

Casey wrapped his other hand around Strannix's collar and threw him straight into the nearest computer. There was a shower of sparks and glass. A thin trickle of blood oozed down the desk.

Casey turned to where Jordan was still huddled in the corner. She looked like she was nearing shock. He went over and helped her up. She pressed against him and cried softly.

"Casey," she sniffled.

Casey wasn't one for sentiment, or really one for emotion at all. And he really had no idea what to do with a crying woman. But he figured he had to do something, so he sort of just let Jordan snuggle up to him, and then he gingerly put one arm around her.

"It's all right," he said. "Now let's get this ship home."


	10. Chapter 10

It turns out Ryback was a lot smarter than Jordan gave him credit for. In the short time that she'd been trying to outmaneuver Strannix, Ryback had managed to free his men, blow up Krill and his submarine, and conference-call a bunch of stuffy generals in Washington to brainstorm ways to take back the ship. He deactivated the missiles just as easily. As quickly as the whole disaster had started, it was over.

Jordan didn't leave his side the rest of the trip until supporting troops rappelled onto the deck from hovering helicopters. Somehow, quite without her realizing it, he'd found a blanket to wrap her up in—another subtle skill she hadn't appreciated previously. And while she hated to be a bother to such a hero, he hadn't protested at all when her legs finally buckled after all the stress. He'd simply swept her up into his arms without a word, carrying her like he'd carry a kitten. She had buried her face in his shoulder, filled with a wonderful, overwhelming sense of security and peace. Casey had her, and that meant she didn't have to worry about anything.

Yes, by the time the helicopters landed, she'd stopped thinking about him as Ryback and started calling him Casey. The initial distaste she'd had for this gruff, quiet commando had bloomed into something far more full of respect and even affection.

As Casey carried her across the deck and towards the helicopter, the other sailors erupted in cheers for their rescuer.

"Hey, Casey, show us a move!" one of them called out.

"Here's a move for you," Casey replied, tilting his head and giving Jordan a kiss. It was surprisingly gentle, but it still filled her with a pleasant warmth and made her toes tingle.

Maybe this Casey Ryback wasn't so bad afterall. Maybe he was pretty wonderful.


End file.
